Fallen
by Pline84
Summary: [Post season 8 SPN ; post season 2 Sherlock] The Angels fell and John hears voices in his head. In America and in Britain, the destiny of extraordinary men is linked. The world still can be saved but sacrifices have to be made. (Eventual slash)
1. The beginning

Hey everybody!

This is my first story written in english so I'm very stressed.

So, it's a **Superlock **fanfiction but, at thirst, it'll be more focused on **Sherlock.**

I hope you'll like it but even if you don't, could you review please? It's really important to me.

See you soon!

* * *

_My wonderful beta is **Washington Jones**! Thanks you a lot, love!_

**Disclaimers: **I don't own neither of the two shows. Supernatural is owned by the CW and Sherlock is owned by the BBC.

* * *

**The beginning**

We never know when our lives are about to change and never come back to normal. The whispers of the approaching storm stay unnoticed. We think our situations will last forever; for why would it change?

But it changes.

Sometimes it becomes worst, sometimes it's for the best.

_They_ don't know. _They_ have no idea.

_They _walk the earth, unconscious, but in Heaven and Hell they are watched.

Death shakes his head – those tiny little humans! Faith waits and God, hidden, sighs.

* * *

Somewhere in America two brothers helped by an angel of the Lord are trying to close the gates of Hell.

The human kind doesn't realize. For most of it, Hell is just a metaphor. Yet, it exists.

And the Winchesters and Castiel want to close it for Eternity.

* * *

At the exact same time, the world's only detective consultant and his army doctor are working on case. For three years they were separated and the gried is not over yet.

Now, they are reunited. There are still issues and misunderstandings but they think things are going to be okay.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are wrong.

* * *

"_It's beginning."_

* * *

"John... John... You need to remember. Can you hear me? John! John!"

John Watson wakes up suddenly. His habbits of a soldier make him realize that a shadow was hidding in the corner of the room, in the darkness.

"Who are you?" he orders. "What do I need to remember? Identify yourself!'"

The shadow doesn't move and doesn't talk. John hears the sound of someone running trough the stairs.

The door is opened with strength and Sherlock appears, his hair messier than usual.

"John! What's going on?"

"There's someone!" is the only thing the blond man can answer.

He is panicked and he doesn't understand why.

Sherlock turns to the direction the doctor is showing but there was but there is nobody: no shadow, no silhouette. No one.

"But...? How...? I don't understand. Sherlock, someone was there, I'm not crazy!"

"You were having a nightmare. You only thought there was someone."

John closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He needs to calm down. Those dreams were ridiculous. Every night he dreams of a voice telling him to remember. But what? What does he need to remember?

Does that only mean something?

"John?"

The latter opens his eyes and smiles softly at his friend.

"I'm okay. That's nothing, you're right. Of course you are."

Sherlock seems worried and John feels bad and guilty. Everything should be alright. The detective's alive, they live together again, they solve cases again...

Yet, John is not okay.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked to change the subject.

"No."

"Tea?"

Sherlock smiles a little and agrees with a simple nod. John seems upset but he always is after having nightmares.

Even if those happen less often, the soldier keep being haunted by the war. That's why the brunette put that night in a corner of his Mind Palace; not forgotten but he does not think of it anymore.

* * *

"Angels... They're falling."

It's a spectacle of horrific beauty. Celestian beings falling from Heaven...

Sam coughs and that is enough to make Dean focus on him again.

"Come on, little brother, I'm gonna patch you up."

He carries Sam into the Impala. He's really bad and Dean can't stop worrying. He has to save him.

He can't live without his brother.


	2. Maybe

_Hello!_

_I'm really happy and relieved you liked the first chapter._

_I hope you'll like the second one too! Please, don't forget to review :)_

_._

_Thanks again to the lovely **Washington Jones, **my beta !_

_._

_See you soon, dears !_

* * *

**Maybe**

It's getting worse. Now, John can hear the voices anytime now.

He gasped the first time it happened. Thankfully, he was alone.

He thinks he's going mad. He worries he could be dangerous. He has PTSD, he knows what it is not to control his body nor his mind.

He doesn't tell Sherlock but Sherlock knows something is wrong. He just doesn't know what yet.

Maybe he should flee. Sherlock couldn't want a crazy assistant, could he?

That thought is awful. John wants to believe that their friendship is stronger but he can't even trust himself. He wants to protect the detective but he also wants the latter to protect him.

He's never going ask for help. He waits. He waits for the brunette to figure it out.

Will he reject him?

"John.. John... Remember. It's important. Dont' you remember?" says the voice in his head.

Maybe he's insane.

* * *

Castiel is human now. Metatron betrayed him. He wanted to fix his home, to make things better for his family. He breaks everything he touches.

He wanted to stop the Apocalypse. Many of his siblings died.

To prevent Raphael to free Lucifer and Micheal from the pit, he worked with a demon – the king of Hell – and Angels killed each other in a civil war. He lost the trust of the Winchesters.

He believed he was a new God, causing the death of many humans. The Leviathans got out of Purgatory.

And today: he wanted to repair Heaven. All the Angels fell.

He thinks he's cursed. He shouldn't go back for Dean and Sam. How could they still want him?

But he needs them. He loves them. And he's human now. And he's lost.

Maybe he should die.

* * *

The doctors don't understand. Sam is clearly ill but the disease is mysterious. It's a first.

Dean knows they can't heal him but he's desperate. Cas doesn't answer, the Angels fell so it's probably normal but he's afraid for his friend. He tries to stop himself from thinking of him but it's impossible not to worry.

He's afraid of losing his brother. He's afraid of losing his best friend – or whatever.

Now, he's all alone, sitting in a room full of people waiting for news of their loved ones.

He wishes Bobby was there. He has no one to rely on.

His mom. His dad. Bobby. Jo. Ellen. Benny. Pamela. Ash. They are all dead.

He feels so lonely. He carries so much on his shoulders.

And for the first time in ages, he prays.

"Please God, let them live. Don't take them away from me. I'm begging you. Not now, not after everything I've done. Please."

Maybe he has lost hope.

* * *

Sherlock is worried. He has noticed something is wrong with John but he can't understand what.

He knows John doesn't sleep well and most of the times he's lost in his thoughts. He jumps when someone talks to him, he doesn't really listen anyway.

What is going on?

He wants to take care of him but he doesn't know how to do it. He's a sociopath, isn't he?

But he truly cares for his friend, he sincerely worries about him.

Maybe he's not made to love.

* * *

'"John, I'm bored."

"... You always are", said the doctor after a long instant.

"Lestrade has nothing for me", continued Sherlock even if the hesitation was clearly audible.

"Can't you just...?'"

John suddenly stops. His eyes wide opened, his face pale. It's the first time he reacts like this.

Sherlock stands up to face is friend. He wants to take his friend's hands but he doesn't.

"John?"

The doctor doesn't answer. Is that Sherlock? It that the voice whispering in his mind?

Is that real?

He's so tired, he just wants to sleep. He needs silence.

"John! Answer me, please! John!"

"Sherlock?"

It breaks the heart the detective believed he hadn't to see his dear blogger like this. And John has never seen his friend in that state.

"Sherlock? What's going on?"

"You tell me."

John hesitates. He can't lie to Sherlock and the latter will know no matter what.

"I think I'm loosing my mind."


	3. Giving up

_Hey!_

_Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! Please, don't forget to say if you like the story, it's really important to me._

_By the way, I know season 9 of Supernatural has started but I won't follow the story._

_See you soon!_

_._

_Once again, thanks to the wonferful **Wahsington Jones**, my beta!_

* * *

**Giving up**

Sam is dying and he knows it. He has accepted it.

He's lost into unconsciousness. He sees his mom and the life he could never have.

In those reveries, his mom smiles gently and they're happy and they're a family and everything is beautiful.

Jessica stands by his side, her hand squeezes his. He's happy like he's ever been.

Deans makes bad jokes and drinks a beer, and only one. He has a son who looks like Ben and Sam's dad teaches him baseball.

It's so cliché he could laugh but it's all he has ever wanted.

He's still dying. He hopes he'll see his parents in Heaven. He's been there already and knows what it's like.

How his piece of Heaven will be? What will be his happiest memory? Has he only been truly happy once?

Dean... He thinks of Dean a lot.

His brother's gonna be alone.

Well, not alone. Castiel would propably stay with him even after everything that happen lately.

Their bound has always been profund.

At first, Sam had been jealous of that. They always seem to understand each other without a word. It's a complicated reliationship made of a trust they can't completly have but it's also made of respect.

It took a few months before Sam realised he'd never want Dean to look at him the same way he looks at Cas.

_Their bound has always been profund._

He hopes Dean won't do something stupid when he's gone.

* * *

"I'm going crazy, Sherlock. It's... It's just driving me mad. I can't anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock says, not pushing too much.

He's worried that John could go away to not answer. He's so afraid.

"_This is it," _thinks John. _"It's over. He's gonna reject me."_

"John?"

"I hear voices in my head."

"What?"

"At first I used to only hear them in my dreams and I couldn't sleep well. But now, it's all the time. I don't undestand and it's creeping me out."

Sherlock is shoked. John sighs.

_It's over._

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm gonna pack my stuff."

The soldier shakes his head and gets up, he tries his best not to cry nor show the smallest weakness. He's suddenly stopped by a pale hand on his wrist.

"Don't."

Sherlock's voice is still but his eyes are darkened. He seems youger and older at the sime time. Younger because of a child's fear of rejection and loneliness. Older for his decision is made and nothing will ever change that.

"Stay."

John doesn't dare to believe anything and blows harshly the little flame of hope shining in his heart.

"Sherlock."

"I won't give up on you."

And for the first time in weeks, the blond man feels safe, calm and protected.

"Why?" he whispers.

Sherlock squeezes the hand rolled up around the doctor's wrist.

"You know why."

* * *

Castiel is walking next to a road. He's tired, he's ashamed. He has lost his phone.

He's so human now. Does it mean he's weak? The Winchesters are human but they're everything but weak.

How do they keep up?

It's so painful to be human. His throat is dry, his legs are aching and he's exhausted.

Castiel adresses a pray to Dean; he's no angel, he's no God but he's more. He's whole, he's strong and caring. He never gives up. He's good.

He hopes Sam is feeling good. Are the Gates of Hell closed? Is Sam... dead?

"God, no", he says. "Please, let them live. They've done enough. They deserve it."


End file.
